Phoenix de Killer
by Mad March
Summary: Four years after Phoenix Wright disappears, Miles Edgeworth must piece together the mystery of a murder and an assassin... without becoming a target.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimah: Miles and pals are alllll copyrighted to Capcom. except for that random detective guy.

A/N: Oneshot fic, written for my own twisted enjoyment. 8D;; um, i think this is my first acutal fic. eh... i didnt bother to edit at all, so if you actually choose to review, dont be too harsh. XD;;; Or you can if you want. Not quite sure what to rate this... but i mean... it has death... so K+ it is.

Anyway. I know that the title is extreemly creative. I've seen a few drabble fics on this before, but me 'n my friend came up with this before we read any of those anyway.

* * *

Miles Edgeworth sighed deeply as he traversed through the hallways to his office. It was still quite early in the morning, the sun hadn't even fully risen above the horizon, and over the past two days he had gotten all of 5 hours of sleep. 

The case that he was working on was turning out to be a real pain. For some reason, Keith Wallace, an investigator working on the case, had called Miles earlier, for some reason having something to discuss at this ungodly hour, cutting down the time he had to sleep even further.

"This had better be important…" the annoyed prosecutor muttered to himself, reaching for the ornate wood door to his office and jabbing the key into the handle. Wallace had agreed to meet in Miles' office, but he was surprised to find it already unlocked. How did Wallace get a key? Sighing again exasperatedly, his sleep deprived brain dismissed the issue quickly and threw open the door.

In the high prosecutor's office, Miles immediately sensed that something was wrong. A single shaft of sunlight emitted from the window, and most of the room was covered in shadows.

Wallace was supposed to be in here, right? Why was it so dark? As his eyes became accustom to the sudden change in lighting, he could see the silhouette of someone sitting in one of the chairs facing his desk. The hair on the back of his neck rose as he watched the still figure in the chair that showed no reaction to the sound of him entering the room.

Suppressing a shudder, the stunned prosecutor slowly walked over to the chair, hesitating before looking directly at the body of his colleague. Eyes wide, the first thing Miles did was check for a pulse he knew wasn't there; the air around the body was already cold and showed no signs of life at all.

Panicking is what most people proceed to do after coming across a dead body in the early hours of dawn, or at any time for that matter. But Miles Edgeworth was always in control of his emotions, and managed to keep a relatively steady breathing rate while looking into the glassy, blank eyes of the late investigator. Checking fruitlessly for other signs of life, Miles took a shaky step away from the rapidly chilling body.

Collecting his thoughts and taking several deep breaths, he scanned the body for some clues as to how de died. He noticed a thin, red line around Wallace's neck, quickly coming to the conclusion that he was strangled to death recently with some sort of wire, which provided substantial evidence that he was murdered. However, no signs of a struggle could be seen in the office, no blood, everything was in the exact place he had left them in last night. _That means Wallace was taken completely by surprise. _Miles thought, closing his eyes to analyze the scene.

_But why on earth was he killed in the first place? Maybe he found something while investigating…_ Miles' eyes snapped open and widened as he deduced why someone would want this man dead, and why the investigator was in such a hurry to tell him something this morning. _…He was killed so he couldn't get certain information to the prosecution. _

Turning away from the body, shuddering and taking another deep breath, Miles made a mental note to have what Wallace found out investigated thoroughly, and to keep in mind that whoever was truly guilty would probably not think twice before having anyone involved killed. But right now he needed to report the murder to the police and have the body examined; Wallace might have some sort of evidence with him…

Suddenly Miles froze and his heart rate spiked to about 120 bpm. He had just realized that someone else was standing in his office. There, in the corner, hidden by a shadow made even darker by the contrasting shaft of light. Someone so good at his job that the defenseless man standing in front of him didn't realize he was there. At least until Miles' primal instinct kicked in and told him he was being watched, and also that his life was in danger.

"Hm, looks like I've been spotted," a casual voice emitted from the shadows as a man stepped into view. "Fancy meet'in you here, Edgeworth. Although I suppose it _is_ your office."

Miles forgot how to breathe. The man in front of him was the assassin. Besides the black gloves, lack of his normal blue suit, and the slightly more distant look in his eyes, he was exactly the same as when Miles remembered him before he disappeared four years ago. "…W…Wright?" he managed to choke out.

A shadow crossed Phoenix's face and he grinned. "'S been awhile, Edgeworth," he said, far too casually after just KILLING someone.

At a complete loss for words, Miles just stood there as he tried to comprehend the sudden reappearance of his old friend, and why on earth he would become an assassin. What was all that talk of justice he went on about four years ago when he defended people in court?

"…W…Wright…" was all he managed to stutter out. Phoenix made a noise of amusement. "What a reunion. It's not like you to be at a loss for words," he grinned again.

_Well I sure didn't expect you to be making a living killing people… _Miles mentally retorted. "Are…Are you here to kill me…?" he asked quietly.

Phoenix raised his eyebrow and stopped smiling. "Ah, no, you've got nothin' to worry 'bout, my job's only t' get him…" he inclined his head, looking at the dead body without a hint of concern. His overly casual way of speaking was starting to annoy Miles, along with his complete lack of remorse in ending another human being's life. How could he have changed so much?

"Why…Why did you…kill him?"

The former defense attorney shrugged. "Have t' make a living."

"So you're just doing this for the money?" Miles accused angrily, disgusted by his motives. How could he have left for that? "Wh-Why?"

Phoenix paused, turning away. His strangely grey eyes grew dark. "It's… amazing, what someone would pay to have another humans life ended," he turned back to the prosecutor and the look in the assassin's eyes was a bit unsettling. "Humanity is heading for extinction." Miles shuddered at the ice in his voice.

As quickly as it had come, the darkness in Phoenix's face disappeared, replaced by a strange smile.

"Bu…Who…"

Phoenix put on a mocking smirk. "Aww, Edgeworth, you know I can't tell you that."

He adjusted his blood red tie. "Well, I should be going." He turned to face the rising sun, which cast a reddish-gold reflection into the room.

_Don't leave_

"Ah, I almost forgot," Phoenix turned back around, and swiftly cleared the distance between him and Miles, which caused him to jump.

His heart skipped as Phoenix's face drew closer to his own, feeling the breath of the murderer brushing against his cheeks. He backed away shakily as Phoenix's strangely unreadable light grey eyes bore into his own, feeling them read every thought, every emotion.

Suddenly, something was thrust into Miles's coat pocket. Sliding back into the shadows, Phoenix was smiling again. "Just so you wont be a suspect," placing his hands on the sill of the open window.

The shaky prosecutor took a step forward, regaining his regular heart rate.

_Wait…_

Phoenix swung his legs over the edge of the window, sitting between Miles' office and a twelve story drop to a 99.9998 percent chance of fatality.

"See ya 'round," he said with a salute, flinging himself completely through the window, just as Miles regained feeling in his legs, then proceeding to sprint to the window as Phoenix vanished from view.

_Wright…_ Miles hit the edge of the window, panicking at the thought of Phoenix splattering his innards all over the sidewalk. Though he half expected it, the assassin had completely vanished, despite the fact that he had jumped out the window about 3 seconds ago.

Staring at the street below him in a daze for the next few minutes seemed like a good time to collect thoughts and fully comprehend all that had transpired.

_How could he leave again?_

Exhaling a breath he didn't know that was being held, Miles backed away from the window slowly and coming back to reality, remembering the gravity of the situation he was in. There _was_ a dead investigator not five feet away from him after all.

He felt something clenched tightly in his hands, remembering what Phoenix had put in his pocket, although he was unsure of how it appeared in his hands. He sighed and brought it up to the light where he could see it.

Bathed in the bloody light of the rising sun, Miles held the assassin's calling card, on it an intricately designed phoenix.

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A/N: yeah. now ra-view pu-leez. 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: All your Phoenix are belonging to Capcom.

A/N: Heeeyyy everybody, I'm back. Yeah, this was originally going to be a oneshot, but due to good reviews, and the fact that two of my closest friends asked me to continue this, I uh, decided to.

Pretty much the reason this took so long is that I actually had to come up with a plot for the story (Not saying i have one). Cuz i had nothing. :B At this point I'd like to thank my Co-Idea-Cheese, who I'm pretty much WRITING this for, and I'd also like to thank my beta person, who drew Godot-zilla on the draft. XD

This takes place after T&T, since I got to play it, and it has/will have spoilers for all three games. So sit back and relax, and watch some stupidity in action!

* * *

The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully for Miles Edgeworth, besides reporting to the police station for questioning, which Phoenix's card made short work of. Sending the investigators recently assigned to the case into a frenzy of yelling and confusion, Miles was able to walk out after answering a few simple questions, since there was no doubt that he would ever hire an assassin to kill his own investigator. He even got the Prosecutor's Office to let him off work for the day due to 'traumatic experiences,' though he knew he had far too much work to do on his case to be taking the day off. Well, that and the police weren't done investigating the crime scene, which was the only place he could get any paperwork done.

The experience was unsettling to say the least, but seeing his old friend again definitely made it to Miles' list of top ten things he would have never expected in all of eternity. It brought back a turmoil of memories and emotions, most of which he had been hoping to never think about again. Toward Phoenix he felt something similar to betrayal, but whenever he would start making judgments about him, he reminded himself that Phoenix had probably felt the same was when he himself had come back from the dead after a year.

Maybe Phoenix left for the same reason Miles did, to re-examine his life. Miles wasn't planning on returning either, if not for Franziska. But why would the former attorney be killing people? The prosecutor decided to put these thoughts aside and focus on the present, reasoning that these questions were most likely to go unanswered for the time being, and pondering unanswerable questions would not get anything done.

Miles sighed as he threw his jacket unceremoniously onto the nearest chair and loosened his cravat, making his way over to the kitchen. He hoped he still had some of that stress-reducing tea left.

Just as he turned the burner on under the kettle, the phone on the nearby counter rang. Leaving the water to boil, he picked up the phone rather absentmindedly.

"Hello?"

"I heard you were almost killed today, you foolish fool," came an icy, amused sounding voice.

"Good morning to you too, Franziska." She had moved back to America indefinitely a few months ago, and for some reason saw it fit to keep track of him. Over the years Franziska's questionable amount of hostility toward him had dulled, and he could recognize the protective 'older' sibling behind the commanding voice and the supercilious attitude.

"So what happened?"

"Exactly what you said."

"You will answer my question, Miles Edgeworth," The prosecutor could hear the amusement in his sister's voice wearing thin.

Debating whether or not to tell her the truth, he figured that Franziska would never believe that Phoenix had become an assassin unless he was standing in front of her killing someone. (Miles wouldn't have believed it either, if not for the fact that he HAD seen Phoenix standing in front of him.) The man that she had induced fear upon with a flex of her whip or even a quick glare…Franziska might send her brother to a mental ward if he thought that such a man was killing people.

"You…wouldn't believe me," he said, since Miles couldn't fabricate a lie quickly enough for the rather aggressive woman to not find suspicious. One bad thing about being around people of the law all the time: lies have to be intricate and air-tight, or else they're picked apart faster than a cross-examination.

Franziska's curiosity was raised, achieving the exact opposite of what the statement was intended for. "What makes you so sure of that?" she pressed.

"Trust me, you wouldn't believe me and it wouldn't make any sense. Then you'll start asking questions I don't have answers for, or the time for that matter."

"If I recall correctly, you have the day off today to recover from 'traumatic experiences.'" She had him there. "But if you ask me, you don't sound traumatized at all."

"Well that's your opinion," Miles growled. "Now if you don't _mind_ Franziska, my tea is ready, so if you have nothing else to say…"

"…Mark my words, Miles Edgeworth, I will get the truth out of you." He couldn't tell if she was teasing or not as she hung up the phone.

Miles leaned up against the counter. He had lied about his tea being ready, but Franziska had been right; he wasn't traumatized at all. 'Bothered' or 'disturbed' maybe, but not traumatized.

_Though a day off would be better for my health… I should be spending this time figuring out why my detective was killed._

He supposed he should start by looking at the crime scene again. The case was essentially a murder case, and by the looks of it, domestic violence. A man had shot his wife in front of a window on the second story of an apartment complex, so of course there was a witness to testify to the whole thing. (Really, if you're going to kill someone, don't do it in front of a window in the daylight.)

Unfortunately, the only thing the prosecution had to go on was the witness's testimony. No prints were found on the gun, no real decisive evidence, nothing that showed that the defendant had even been at his apartment that day, a fact that the cocky lawyer he would be up against would most likely fall back on when forced in a corner. Miles wasn't even sure himself if the accused was actually guilty, but he was confident in his ability to uncover the truth. A few years ago, all he would have cared about was getting the man sent to jail, regardless of the truth, until a rookie defense attorney cut down the demon prosecutor in his prime. As they say, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. And Miles Edgeworth fell hard indeed. _There you go, dwelling on the past again…_ he said to himself, remembering the confused yet pained look on Phoenix's face upon returning to America. And worse yet, the remark he had made about how it would be better if Miles never returned. Had Phoenix really wished he stay dead? What if Phoenix wanted him dead NOW? Suddenly, perusing information someone had been killed for finding out didn't seem like such a good idea. He wondered if Phoenix would think twice before killing someone else, even if that someone was his former friend. The assassin had seemed rather emotionally detached during their brief meeting; Miles wouldn't want to bet if he'd show any mercy.

The prosecution would need to go about investigating and collecting information in a smart way, and that would be to keep everything secret and as hush-hush as possible. It would also be extremely difficult. Wallace had found out some sort of incriminating information, yet he was silenced before the prosecution became aware. Either the murderer was very resourceful and kept a close eye over everyone on this case, or it was an inside job. Could someone on the investigation team, or even the police be behind this? Either way, Miles would need to keep detective Gumshoe in the dark. Gumshoe's mouth was like a volcano; always spewing out things it shouldn't. That meant that Miles would have to do most of the investigating himself, and hope that no information got leaked ANYWHERE. Otherwise whoever killed Wallace would go after Miles… possibly hiring Phoenix to do the dirty work. No matter how much Miles wanted to see him again to find out what happened to change his life the way it did, he'd much rather not risk being killed at the same time.

The kettle on the stove started to whistle, though not registering in Miles' mind. Mechanically, he poured the hot water into a cup and put the tea bag in, stirring it with a spoon. He would have to put the pieces of the puzzle together slowly, and he could feel that this case was much bigger than it had seemed at the beginning. And somehow, he knew that Phoenix was tied up in it as well.

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A/N: Yeah, i know, all your patience for that piece of crap. I really had no idea what to write. 8D Hopefully I'll actually have a storyline by the time i write the next chapter.

Anyway, review if you want, critique welcome.

Oh yeah, and I'd also like to thank everyone who reviewed the first chapter. :3 YOU GUYS ROCK


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Anything/one you recognize isn't mine.

A/N: Kay guys, well after this i promise i won't make so many excuses as to why i don't update very often. 8D the simple fact is that, I'm lazy. Writing is by no means my priority, its just something i do when im bored and my internet goes out. But luckily i have a bit more of a plot worked out by now, so hopefully i'll be updating SOONER next time! Oh yeah, and thank you guys for all your support and reviews and everything!

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"…Tell me what we are doing here again, Miles Edgeworth." Franziska von Karma's steely voice cut through the silence of the empty room. The two prosecutors were alone in room 219 of the Concrete Descents apartment complex, the site of the recent murder Miles Edgeworth had been assigned to prosecute. The entire building looked about as glamorous as it sounded. And the particular apartment they were in looked like it hadn't been cleaned in- well… ever. There were remains of boxes and papers strewn about, along with the general rubble of a room that looked like it had never been dusted or vacuumed. Also, the fact that blood covered part of a wall and several pieces of furniture were overturned nearby, and a broken lamp lay on the floor sure didn't help.

"We're investigating." The silver haired prosecutor replied simply without glancing up from the reports he was reading as he casually reached into the drawers of various desks and dressers, shaking the dust off his hands after he brought them back out. He ran his free hand under a nearby windowsill, but stopped just short of a streak of blood that looked as if someone's head had been bleeding and they hit their head on the sill and slid down the wall. Which, according to what the witness said, was exactly what happened.

"I know that!" Franziska snapped angrily, her eyes narrowing. "But why am I here?! Did your investigation team quit because of your foolish incompetence?"

"Ha ha," Miles threw the reports onto the coffee table in the center of the room, crouching down to check the underside of the table when he moved towards it. "Actually it could be an inside job… I can't let any truly valuable information leaked in any case…" He muttered as he turned his eyes to the younger prosecutor as she stepped closer to him.

Miles could see how Franziska how grown from a young, dangerous, and socially challenged attorney obsessed over her win record into a beautiful and deadly woman, still obsessed with her win record. _Some things never change…_ he said to himself, looking her over. Her outfit had changed little over the past few years, though she did get rid of those puffy sleeves for something a bit more practical. The curves of her body were a bit more pronounced now, and she had grown out her hair, at this point passing the ends of her shoulder blades, making her appear older and mature, instead of having to beat it into people with her whip. Her light blue bangs fell in her face, and she brushed them away, glaring at Miles in annoyance in that cute way she always did…

When she had continued to glare at him, Miles realized that she must be waiting for his response about something. "Oh sorry, did you say something?" He hoped to God he wasn't blushing, and that Franziska wasn't reaching for her whip.

"I asked you what you were talking about." She didn't even bother sounding angry.

"Ah, well, you know that one of my investigators was killed, right?" Franziska nodded, and Miles continued before she could ask any questions about what happened. "Well I believe that a person associated with the person guilty for this murder," He motioned at the room the two occupied, "Must have um, killed him." Miles faltered, being careful not to say "had him killed." He stood up and stretched, facing away from Franziska again. "That person knew of the information the investigator had uncovered before I did, and had him silenced just as quickly. This means that it is likely that someone on the investigation team or police force is working for said killer. Keeping an eye on the investigation would be easy when there is someone keeping you informed about it… and that must be what is happening here." He was pretty sure Franziska was going to find out about Phoenix eventually, but Miles sure didn't want to be around her when she did.

"Unless the room is bugged," said Franziska and her eternal optimism. "In which case, we'll probably be killed as soon as we leave."

Miles chuckled inwardly. "Ah, Franziska, that's what I've been doing for the entire time you've been complaining, and for about twenty minutes before you even got here. I can assure you that our conversation is not being listened to by unwelcome ears." He cleared food and other random trash off of a space of a nearby peachy-orange colored couch, hopped on and sighed, picking the papers up again. Each of them had already been read through multiple times, but Miles was finding it harder to keep his concentration on them due to lack of sleep, and ended up reading the same sentence over and over again without realizing it.

"Well just so you know, I have better things to do than stand around in such an_ uncivilized_ area sifting through trash looking for evidence." Franziska scrutinized the man for a moment when she didn't get a response. "…Just how much sleep have you gotten this week?" She knew him so well. Either that or she could see the dark circles under his eyes. "This case seems pretty straightforward to me… at least from what you've told me. Why are you losing so much sleep over it?" Her presence itself was intimidating, but the way she was physically looking down on him was enough to make her simple question seem hostile.

"Ngh…" Miles slumped back on the dirt-covered couch, wincing when he saw a cloud of dust settle on his shoulders. He shielded his eyes from the garish rays of fluorescent light that bore upon him from the ceiling fan. "Well… there's no… _decisive_ evidence. Nothing's exceedingly incriminating but the witness' testimony. I've heard that the attorney I'm up against isn't above… tweaking evidence, so I just wanted to make sure he loses if the defendant is really guilty." That had been his main reason for the investigating for the past week, but now he personally wanted to know how Phoenix was involved in all this. On top of that, it had been a little more difficult to put flawless cases together once he had given up some of his more…questionable ways of dealing with witnesses and evidence.

He felt Franziska sit down on the cushion next to him after a moment of hesitation as she eyed the various wastes that littered the sofa. "That's not something you see every day, a defense attorney with the drive of a prosecutor, as you seem to be portraying. All the lawyers I have faced in this country have been cowering fools!" Miles could practically hear her smile in her voice, no doubt thinking of the way Phoenix Wright cringed at the mere sight of her and her whip. Or any defense attorney did, for that matter.

"Even the most dignified of lawyers seem to be reduced to cowering fools in front of your whip." Miles muttered, rolling his eyes under his lids.

"True." She sounded a little too proud of herself. "All who dare to stand up to the von Karma name shall be crushed under my heel like the bugs they are!" Okay, now she was just being _silly._ And Miles had a feeling that she was visualizing Phoenix Wright fainting from pain in front of her again… The only lawyer to ever defeat her in court.

When Phoenix was reported missing several years ago, Franziska had been uncharacteristically concerned. She had made sure Miles sent out his own investigation team, in addition to the standard police work that missing people normally got. Not like those reports on the sides of milk cartons could count, no one ever reads those anyway. No one even drinks milk out of a CARTON anymore. Needless to say, their searching had been in vain, and eventually they had to accept that Phoenix Wright may never be found again. Miles never showed it on the outside, but the sudden and unexplained disappearance of one of his closest friends had devastated him. In fact, that was the point where Franziska had once again become an older sister figure to him; she could always see through his façade of impassiveness better than most people.

At least Miles had left a note, to let people know what happened to him, or at least what he wanted them to know, but Phoenix had just… vanished. No note was left; Miles hadn't even been able to get in contact with his old assistant, Maya Fey. She had never picked up her cell phone when he called her, and when he finally found the number for her village, the elders there wouldn't let him talk to her. The prosecutor had considered driving up there himself, but he figured that if they were that intent on keeping her from him, they sure wouldn't let him see her in person. He had, however, gotten in contact with that other young Fey girl, but she had no information about Phoenix at all, and when he mentioned Maya, hoping she could gain him an audience with her, the child had made an expression of seriousness beyond her age, obviously trying her best to hold back her emotions. No matter what Miles did, he could not get her to speak any more on the matter, and he really didn't want to get accused of harassing a young girl…Ugh. As to what the people of the village wanted to keep from outsiders, Miles had no idea and he was very curious about it, but finding Phoenix was the priority at the time and it didn't seem like the Feys knew anything.

On top of that, Larry Butz had called nearly every day for two months, unleashing a torrent of "pain" and "angsting" at the loss of his "BFF", (Only girls use the term BFF, Larry must have been REALLY out of it…) asking how the investigation was going and if they had any leads, but he never even heard the answers, going off on some long anecdote about the "good old days," which in Miles' opinion, weren't all that good, and reminiscing on all the fond memories he and Nick had together. At first Miles had humored him, pretending to listen to his emotional babbling only because he himself had felt horrible at the time, but after awhile Larry would call, informing Edgeworth about obscurely unrelated topics that Miles had no interest in, such as whatever girl he was dating at the time or whatever girl had recently dumped him. This led to Miles' newfound gratitude with the device on his phone known as "caller ID."

Court had also taken a turn for the boring, without a proper rival to make trials more interesting. Sure, when Phoenix was around Miles didn't exactly look forward to going to court because he thought it would be fun or anything, but court had seemed to become more of a chore for him than a "God given duty" that he sort of used to see it as. Convicting criminals used to be his old drive for going to court; getting a few innocent people sent to jail didn't seem nearly as bad as letting killers go free. The prosecutor had started to question these morals once Wright had defended him in court. Of course he still tried his hardest to get a guilty verdict for whoever the defendant was, and normally he succeeded. It was horrible when he knew that the accused was innocent but their lawyer was too incompetent to prove it; however that was in no way an excuse to roll over and let defense attorney get a win over the "demon prosecutor." With Phoenix Wright he could do everything he could to get a guilty verdict, yet in the end an innocent man would not be sent to jail, which left him feeling rather satisfied knowing he did everything he could but the truth had come through for them again. The truth… that was where Miles' new motivation came from…

"_Miles._"

His eyes flew open, meeting the icy blue, slightly concerned eyes of Franziska von Karma. He looked around; he was still on the couch in the apartment, with Franziska leaning close to him looking like she was about to start shaking his shoulders if he hadn't woken up at the call of his name. He must have dozed off.

"What is it, Franziska?" He leaned forward to stretch his arms a bit as she leaned back to sit on her legs. Miles rubbed his eyes, stifling a yawn and shaking out the dust that had collected in his hair.

"I didn't want to wake you," she picked up a cell phone that was sitting next to her on the couch and held it out. "But I found this… It might have some clues on it, maybe."

Miles picked it up with a slowly as the effects of his nap were wearing off. The phone was nothing really special, just a plain silver flip-phone, and from the looks of it, used often. The paint was chipping in several places where someone's hand had rubbed it off after much use, and the screen was grimy with and dust trapped between the layers of plastic, and fingerprints, which would no doubt be useful to determine the phone's owner, covered the screen as well, probably the buttons too. He pressed down the power button, but after a few seconds, nothing happened.

"Its dead." Miles checked again to see if it would turn on but the screen remained black.

Franziska shrugged. "I was looking for the remote between the couch cushions, and I found that down there. It must have fallen out of someone's pocket when they sat here."

Miles looked at her after a moment with a blank expression. "You stuck your hand down… _there?_" He looked in horror at the disgusting couch as Franziska's face took on a lovely shade of crimson.

"You were asleep, I was bored!" she stood up hastily and started brushing herself off. "This place is horribly uncouth." She crossed her arms. "Let's get out of here already."

"Yeah…" Miles sighed and stood up, sticking the phone into his pocket. "I think this is all we're going to find in here anyway." He swept dust off his suit as well and adjusted his cravat. Franziska was already halfway to the door; he could see her fidgeting with the whip at her side with impatience.

At this point Miles was fairly certain that the information leak was due to a traitor amongst the police force. Hopefully the cell phone they found would shed some light onto something… if not the identity of any conspirators then perhaps something he could use in the upcoming case. Either way, avoiding more deaths of his detectives would be the best course of action, along with figuring out what the detective that WAS killed had found out. He didn't want to get his hopes up that the phone might be a vital piece of evidence, but Miles had a feeling that it would be important to figure out at least a little of what was going on. And he really, _really_ needed to get some sleep.

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A/N: 8D I promise there'll actually be action in the next chapter. (hopefully.) Also, im sorry if you find my chapters too short, for some reson i can never get them as long/whatever as i want. hmph.


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